


I pray I'm not left behind

by copperplate



Series: Once we go on ahead [2]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Angst, Henry Pov, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Post-The Raven King, Ronan POV, Smut, The Raven King Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-10 00:56:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6931348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/copperplate/pseuds/copperplate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This fic features snippets of the lives of the characters after the events of The Raven Cycle. It is a continuation of "Once we go on ahead". Like the aforementioned fic, each chapter can be read as a stand alone. Although not a required read to follow this fic, "Once we go on ahead" may give some context to a few things. The first chapter is some good old fashioned emotional Pynch smut from Ronan's POV. The second is self-indulgent angst from Henry's POV (because Henry is a complicated character that needs more limelight IMO).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The small changes

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd. Errors are my own

Ronan Lynch did not like waiting.

In September, Ronan dreamt a beautiful dark blue orchid that left the air around it smelling like mint. Ronan had wanted Adam to have something to remind him of his Henrietta family. He sent it to Adam's dorm room via express shipping. He did not like waiting to receive Adam's surprise text when the flower appeared at his door.

In October, Declan drove Matthew down to Singer's Falls for a visit. Ronan did not like waiting for Matthew to finish up in the bathroom before they were able to depart on their hiking trip together through the Virginia mountains.

In November, when Thanksgiving rolled around, Calla showed up at the Barns asking, no, ordering Ronan to get in the car. Ronan sneered at her in response. After what felt like a 3 hour staring contest, contemptible glare facing off against contemptible glare, Calla said, "They just want to feed you turkey and send you on your way. Just get in the goddamn car." Ronan got in the car. He did not like waiting 2 hours surrounded by the over excitable women of 300 Fox Way just to get a plate of dry turkey before he was allowed to sneak off and call a taxi to take him home.

In December, when Adam finished his exams, Ronan did not want to wait to meet him in New York with the odd couple-now-trio. So he packed the BMW and took eight hours to make the ten hour drive from Virginia to Massachusetts. He booked a hotel room that he knew Adam would feel was overpriced or too deluxe, but he couldn't give two fucks. There was no way in hell he was going to ravage Adam in his shitty dorm room with his shitty roommate present. Ronan wanted Adam all to himself for at least a couple of days before joining Gansey and co.

By this point, Ronan knew Adam's exam schedule about as well as he knew where his own left testicle sat, mostly because Adam had said "I can't talk more, I need to get back to studying," at least six times in the last two weeks. This meant that Ronan knew that Adam would be finished his last exam on December 19th at 12 pm. Ronan also knew (with a bit of internet searching), exactly which building Adam would be walking out of on December 19th at 12 pm. Taking into account that Adam was the smartest fucking nerd on the planet, he assumed Adam could easily finish a 3 hour exam in a mere 2 hours, and was waiting on the steps of the aforementioned building at 11 am sharp on December 19th. Ronan did not like waiting the 20 minutes until an exhausted Adam came out the front doors. Adam was so lost in his thoughts, he walked right past Ronan without even noticing his presence.

"Wow, man. I haven't seen you that much of a zombie since a crazy wasp demon possessed you."

At those words, Adam quickly spun around to give a smugly smirking Ronan a mystified look.

"What are you doing here?" he said in awe, slowly taking a step towards his boyfriend.

"Why? Not happy to see me?" Ronan asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Unbelievable..." Adam replied, a small smile spreading across his face. Adam rushed into Ronan's waiting arms, nearly knocking him over. Ronan pressed his nose into Adam's hair, inhaling him. He had missed him so much, it was painful. Adam still smelled like his cheap shampoo. He no longer smelled like motor oil. Instead he had a new smell, like a musty library.

"Ronan," Adam mumbled into Ronan's neck, his breath tickling Ronan's sensitive skin. Desire crawled up Ronan's back, putting his hair on ends. Adam pulled away, his eyes roving up and down Ronan's body, as if not truly believing he was standing in front of him.

"Let's get your things and get out of here," Ronan said. "It's so cold, I think my balls have frostbite."

Want was overriding Ronan's mental faculties, and all he cared about was Adam touching him with those beautiful hands, Adam kissing him shamelessly, Adam talking about the dumb shit his roommate did last week. Adam. Adam. Adam.

"But we aren't supposed to be meeting the others for another three days. You were supposed to pick me up at the bus terminal in New York-"

"Yeah yeah," Ronan cut him off. "I was bored out of my fucking mind and I wanted to see you before having to deal with Gansey, the Maggot, and the Hair. So can you just pack your things and get in the car so we can make out already?"

Adam rolled his eyes, but was still smiling. They walked together back to Adam's dorm, climbed the three flights of stairs and entered the small but serviceable room. Adam's roommate, Brody, was there sitting upside down on his bed with his legs leaning vertically against the wall, reading his math notes.

"Oh, hey. Who's this?" Brody asked as he not very gracefully tried to manoeuvre himself to an upright position. The process caused him to knock over two textbooks onto the floor with a loud thud.

"This is Ronan," Adam said as he started shoving clothes into a bag. "My boyfriend."

Brody gave Ronan an inquisitive look. Ronan gave Brody his trademark glare. It was not very effective as Brody cocked his head to the side.

"I thought you said he was a farmer."

"I am a farmer," Ronan growled.

"You sure? You look more like that guy on the cover of that Punk Rock CD from the nineties."

Adam tried to stifle a snort.

"The fuck is wrong with you?" Ronan asked Brody.

"I've been told I lack social grace, but I make it up with humorous degrees of apathy."

"I can see that," Ronan deadpanned.

"Did you know that dairy cows like to listen to music?" Brody went on. "Some studies show cows that listen to music produce more milk."

"I'm not a dairy farmer."

"Me neither."

Adam cleared his throat to get Ronan's attention.

"I'm all ready," Adam said with an apologetic smile, swinging his duffle bag over his shoulder.

"Have a good holiday," Brody said, before plopping back onto his back to continue reading upside down.

"You too," Adam said to Brody, and he almost had to drag a bewildered Ronan out of his room.

"Is that guy for real?" Ronan asked, incredulous, as Adam shut the door behind him.

"Believe it or not, he's a Rhodes Scholarship hopeful," Adam replied.

"What's that?"

"The extreme form of overachiever," Adam explained, leading the way down the flights of stairs and out of the dorm building.

"More so than you?" Ronan teased.

"Oh, definitely."

Ronan led Adam to the BMW. He took Adam's duffle bag and tossed it in the trunk. Adam climbed into the passenger seat, and Ronan the driver's seat. When the doors were closed, they looked at each other. Adam was smiling. Not his mildly amused smile. Not his polite social gathering smile. His rare, genuine, "I'm actually happy" smile.

Ronan leaned in to kiss that smile. Adam let him.

Kissing Adam Parrish was something Ronan Lynch thought he would get used to after the first few hundred times. He was terribly mistaken. Kissing Adam Parrish was like getting hit by lightning. It was like driving through a red light at 100 miles per hour. It was falling off a cliff in a dream, where you never actually hit the ground but instead are jolted awake. It left Ronan's heart beating too fast, and his lungs breathless, and raw energy singeing each and every nerve in his body.

Adam, who had been deprived of intimacy most of his life, drank Ronan in. His hands wrapped around Ronan's head, holding him in place. His whole body inched towards Ronan in the car seat, his tongue swiping the inside of Ronan's mouth. Ronan always thought that there was no way that Adam could possible want to kiss Ronan as much as he wanted to kiss Adam. But he was proven wrong every time he pulled away from Adam and Adam's entire body followed his lips hungrily.

"Wait," Ronan purred, placing a hand on Adam's chest to still him. Adam's eyes were still closed, and his lips were wet and red. "I got a hotel room."

Adam opened his eyes and nodded. "Let's go."

To Ronan's credit, he only drove 5 miles over the speed limit most of the way to the hotel. Cambridge, Massachusetts was not built for drag racing quite like Henrietta, Virginia. During the drive, Ronan kept catching Adam glancing at him, as if he didn't trust his eyes that Ronan was sitting next to him.

The hotel was mercifully close by. Entering the lobby, Adam's eyes bulged. The floors and counter looked like marble, there was an actual chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The concierge was in a full three piece suit.

"Ronan..." Adam said, taking in the vases of fresh cut flowers.

"Problem?" he challenged. Adam swallowed.

"No," he said, with a sigh.

To the concierge's credit, he smiled politely at Ronan as he approached the desk (as opposed to eyeing him as if he would suddenly start smashing things as most people are want to do).

"Reservation under Lynch," he said.

Once checked in, neither of the two boys took much ceremony in unpacking. They shucked off their jackets and boots and left their bags forgotten on the floor. They had more pressing things to do with their hands.

Ronan was almost surprised by the force Adam used to shove him onto the bed. Adam's body followed him down, his cheeks flush.

"I take it you missed me?" Ronan teased as Adam crawled up his body. His blue eyes were on fire, soaking Ronan in. It made Ronan's stomach clench.

Adam answered Ronan by pushing Ronan's shoulder down, pinning Ronan beneath him. Adam was straddling Ronan's hips, leaning over him, his other hand planted next to Ronan's head. He gave Ronan a hungry smile before dipping his head to Ronan's neck and sucking the flesh into his mouth.

"Fuck," Ronan gasped as Adam marked him. It was a slightly painful pleasure and it made Ronan wild.

Ronan had always been gentle with Adam. Maybe too gentle. Ronan could never bring himself to hurt Adam, even if it was foreplay. Even if Adam was strangling the life from his throat. Ronan could never hurt him.

It seemed that Adam had no such compunctions when it came to Ronan. Adam was being rough with him, rougher than he had ever been before. He nipped at Ronan's bottom lip before smashing a kiss to his mouth. He was pushing Ronan deeper in to the mattress with his lips and teeth and Ronan thrilled at it.

Adam's hand moved from his shoulder and wrapped around Ronan's throat and Ronan froze. This was a precarious position that brought back a lot of awful memories. But this time, Adam's hands were completely in his control. He did not squeeze. He simply caressed, his thumb gently gliding over Ronan's larynx. It made Ronan swallow.

They stared into each other's eyes unmoving for a moment, breathing shallow breaths.

Adam leaned down again, and took Ronan's left ear lobe in his mouth before he whispered challengingly, "Did _you_ miss _me_?"

Ronan lost whatever had been left of his self restraint and flipped Adam over, changing their positions so that Adam was beneath him. As they locked mouths again, Ronan's hands were deftly unbuttoning Adam's shirt. He wanted to rip it off him, buttons be damned, but he knew Adam's sensibilities would not approve of destroying a perfectly good shirt. With a frustrated groan into Adam's mouth, he finally got the last button undone and pushed it off his shoulders. They were no longer tanned like the last time Ronan had seen them, a natural consequence of a spending a cool New England fall inside classrooms, but Ronan could still see the dusting of pale freckles on Adam's arms.

Ronan could spend a lifetime simply counting Adam's freckles, drawing patterns in his skin with a finger. Sometimes, when Adam would be asleep, he would count and recount the freckles on his face. As the summer went by, the number would increase from sun exposure. He wondered how many were on his face now.

The other thing Ronan noticed as his eyes drank in Adam's body was that Adam had filled out. He was still lean. But his ribs and the knobs of his spine no longer protruded out from under his skin. His shoulders looked broader, but maybe that was because they were no longer weighed down with the million concerns that used to plague Adam's mind. These days, Adam didn't have to work three jobs while being the errand boy to a magical forest and remaining the top student at Aglionby. These days, Adam didn't have to pinch every penny simply not to starve. These days, Adam didn't have to fear coming home to a raging father and an apathetic mother.

"Touch me," Adam said. Ronan realized he had been silently staring at Adam for far too long, an old habit from before they were together that he seemed incapable of breaking. Yes, he wanted to touch Adam. But there was still too many clothes.

Ronan leaned back on his heels and tore off the black long sleeved shirt he was wearing. As his hands went to the buckle of his pants, Adam stopped him by reaching up and splaying his hand over Ronan's left pectoral. Ronan stared at Adam's elegant long fingers on his torso as they slid over his chest, his index finger tracing his clavicle. There was no grit under Adam's nails. There were no calluses on the pads of his fingers or palm. He had been allowed to be a scholar for the last four months. A scholar instead of a survivor. Ronan wondered what else had changed.

Adam's fingers drifted down and swirled around Ronan's navel causing Ronan's abdominal muscles to twitch. Then they finished the job Ronan had started, unclasping his belt and flicking open his fly.

"Take them off," Adam ordered, his hands immediately going to the crotch of his own khakis. The two boys disrobed. Adam was faster which allowed him to tackle Ronan back down onto bed once he had kicked off his fitted jeans.

They lay on their sides, naked, staring at each other, breathing each other in.

"Touch me," Adam whispered a second time. Ronan obliged, partially because he desperately wanted to, and partially because of the warmth he felt at Adam's trust.

When they had first became an item, Ronan had thought Adam would never be the one to initiate intimacy. He had thought that he was the one who had been craving physical contact, and in that craving he was alone. He had had so many dreams of Adam. Dreams of touching him and being touched. Dreams of Adam turning down his advances with disdain. Dreams of Adam begging for it on his knees. He had been wanting Adam for so long that he thought every kiss would need to be stolen.

He had been so wrong. Adam had actively initiated their second kiss. Adam had been the first one to undress completely, standing vulnerable and naked for Ronan's eyes in his bedroom in the Barns. But he had not been vulnerable. Far from it. He had been open, inviting. He had led Ronan's hands to his body, since Ronan had been too entranced by Adam's beauty to move or think.

Despite what had been done to him by his bastard of a father, Adam did not fear touch. Adam craved it. And Ronan thanked God each and every day that Adam allowed Ronan to be the one to satiate his craving.

So that's what Ronan did with great enthusiasm. He pressed himself to Adam, reaching his hand down to Adam's arousal.

"Yes," Adam hissed as Ronan stroked his length. Ronan watched transfixed as Adam's eyelashes fluttered, as he lost himself to the sensation. It had been too long.

Ronan ravaged Adam. He followed the trail of Adam's freckles with lips and tongue. He combed his fingers through Adam's dust coloured hair, pulling it gently to get Adam to lower his face to his. He used one hand to pump Adam steadily and the other to trail patterns on Adam's back.

Adam was never a passive lover. His arms clung to Ronan, his nails biting into Ronan's skin. Sometimes teeth. Sometimes moans. His hips thrusted into Ronan's palm in rhythm to Ronan's tugs. Ronan's own erection was gliding up the inside of Adam's thigh, neglected and eager. Ronan ignored it. He was too focused on Adam's glazed eyes. On the little sounds escaping Adam's lips. On the way Adam tilted his head back in ecstasy, allowing Ronan better access to his neck.

_Adam. Adam. Adam._

Adam moaned into Ronan's mouth as he came, his body shuddering, his lovely hands clinging to Ronan for dear life.

Adam was panting, blissed-out and relaxed, staring intently at Ronan. He was smiling. He was so beautiful.

Ronan's hand began touching himself; just looking at Adam's smiling face was enough.

"Stop," Adam said, his hand gripping Ronan's arm to halt his motion. "I want to."

Adam took Ronan's length into his long fingers.

"Relax," Adam said, leading Ronan down to lie on his back. He propped himself on an elbow to look down at Ronan from above. "Relax."

Ronan closed his eyes and let Adam's wonderful hands take care of him. It didn't take long. Ronan came with Adam's name on his lips.

***

That night, while Adam slept, his eyes fluttering behind his closed lids in dream, Ronan counted his freckles. He counted them three times, just to be sure he had the right number. Adam had lost six freckles since the summer. He had lost his calluses and his tan. His nails were clean. He smelled different. He had filled out a bit, likely from finally being able to eat properly courtesy of the school provided meal plan. Adam had changed in many subtle ways. None of the changes were bad. None were extreme. Still, the changes were enough to make Ronan worry that, in a way, he was being left behind. Ronan would always agonize that one day he wouldn't be enough for Adam. That Adam would outgrow him, just like he outgrew Henrietta. Adam held endless potential, with a future awaiting him that only the most ambitious people could possibly imagine. On the other hand, Ronan was tied to the Barns. Adam would never ask Ronan to abandon his family home for him. Ronan would never ask Adam to give up his dreams to live there with him.

Adam shifted in his sleep, one arm reaching out and wrapping around Ronan's waist. Ronan could not see the future, so he would always worry at the changes that were still to come. That being said, nothing would prevent him from savouring every moment he still had with the beautiful boy lying next to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a headcannon that 300 Fox Way keep in touch with Ronan when everyone else has gone, partially because he is a magical creature that will continue to attract danger to Henrietta, and partially because he uses them to babysit Opal on an as needed basis.


	2. Inside the hole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd. Errors are my own.

Sometimes even the familiar nightmares are scary. It's a strange notion: having experienced the same dream so many times and still having it leave his heart racing, cold sweat collecting in the crease of his lower back, and too much lingering fear to simply go back to sleep.

Henry Cheng had dreamt of being trapped in a small black space more times than he can count. He had dreamt of silence. He dreamt of being thirsty and hungry and living in his filth. He was alone and afraid. And he thought, "What if I'm not worth the trouble?" Because although he knew his mother loved him, Seondeok could not continue to exist with such a predictable weakness.

In his mind, there had always been two Henry's: the one he was and the one he wished he could be. The latter would not be afraid of dark, enclosed spaces. The latter could woo the world with a smile and a few key words. The latter was more like Richard Campbell Gansey III and less like Henry Cheng. The former was shivering in a strange bed in a anonymous hotel room in the middle of North Carolina.

Consciousness did not help. Henry could clearly _see_ that he was not in a tiny space, yet the walls were still closing in on him. He could see light from the street lamps and moon filtering in through the window, but darkness still ate at him.

He had survived all those years ago because of sheer dumb luck. Because Laumonier had believed his mother when she had told them she would not trade for damaged goods. Had they called her bluff...ah, but Henry did not _know_ it was a bluff. Always in the back of his mind, he saw the scenario where they would have cut off a finger, one at a time, and sent them to his mother in small white jewelry boxes. A little token of what they had taken would be returned to her on a daily basis to entice her cooperation. And then what?

A loving mother would have done anything and everything to get her child back as soon as possible. Seondeok would have laughed in their faces, maybe swore revenge, and let little ten year old Henry be tortured and killed.

Who was the woman who birthed him? Business woman or mother first?

His fear rattled in his bones. He felt the answer he didn't want to acknowledge slither coldly under his skin.

The hole was scary not because it was dark and cold. The hole was scary because it represented a mother who may have cared more for her reputation than her son.

_Face your fears._

Henry threw the sheets off himself with trembling fingers. With a start he realized there were bodies next to him on the bed. A girl with short dark hair, full lips, perky breasts, and lovely legs, breathing deeply in her sleep. And on the other side of her, the length of his body curved around the line of her own, was a boy with perfect hair, straight teeth, and the toned shoulders of a swimmer, snoring softly.

 _Blue. Gansey_.

His mind had delayed supplying their identities and the memories of where they were and why. That was how big and black the hole was when it swallowed him. It made him forget his friends. No. They were more than friends.

 _"We're yours,"_ the girl had said.

 _"Will you be ours?"_ the boy had asked.

Such beautiful memories, completely overwhelmed by that damn black hole in his heart and in his head. He was still inside of it. He knew that because of how much self-hatred he was feeling.

 _You don't deserve them_ , he thought. _Love is for people worth something. You are not worth anything if you are controlled by your fear._

And what was that fear? Dark enclosed spaces? Claustrophobia? Nyctophobia? Or was he afraid not of the hole itself, but of being forgotten inside it? Of no one caring enough to get him back? Of no one missing him if he had died there...

 _Stop this. Face it_.

His jaw tightened. RoboBee crawled out of the pocket of his jeans that had been haphazardly discarded onto the floor before the trio had crawled into bed. It's warm orange glow was the sole source of light coming from within the room. It made Henry squint. Even the little light was too much to bare when his soul was sufficed in darkness.

The insect buzzed before taking off from the floor and landing on Henry's shoulder. It waited.

_Find me darkness._

The metal bee shot off Henry and, faster than any real bee could possibly fly, it made a tour of the room before hovering in front of Henry's chest. Its gentle glow suddenly extinguished, leaving the room once again pitch black. RoboBee's message was clear. It was clear because the bee only reflected Henry's own thoughts.

With more aggression than he would have liked, he swatted RoboBee away from the air in front of him and swiftly made his way to the large closet next to the bathroom. Opening the closet door as quietly as he could, he shoved Gansey's suitcase aside with a foot and collapsed inside, pulling the door closed behind him. He had to pull his knees to his chest to fit properly. Inside, it was pure darkness as even the faint light from the street could not penetrate within.

Henry Cheng was walled in, closed off, and in pitch black.

_Now breathe._

He drew in a rattling breath through his nose, and let the air exhale from his lips.

_Again._

In through his nose, out through his mouth.

_Again._

His pulse thrummed in his ears as he tempered his breathing to a slow steady rate. He felt hot despite wearing nothing but a t-shirt and boxer briefs. He felt the shadows on his skin like layers of wool. The black pushed against his eyes. He felt like he had cotton shoved into his mouth, his ears, his nostrils.

 _Breathe_.

In through his nose, out through his mouth. Sweat was prickling the sides of his temples. He felt a drop course from his neck to in between his shoulder blades.

He let the darkness press on him. He let his body wash with fear. Because it couldn't hurt him. It was just air.

 _Breathe_.

Ten year old Henry had been returned to his mother. She had hugged him so hard he had felt his ribs creak. She had told him she loved him over and over again and wouldn't let him go from her embrace for a good five minutes.

Seondeok had told Laumonier she would not trade for damaged goods. However, the cruel truth was that he had indeed been returned damaged. The damage was just on the inside.

He wrapped his arms tightly around his knees, holding himself together physically the way he couldn't emotionally.

Suddenly the closet door was yanked open.

"Holy sh-, Henry!" Gansey gasped, taken completely off guard. There was more light in the room now. The sun was rising. Henry had no sense of time. He might have been in that closet for a few minutes. He might have been in that closet for a few hours.

Blue was still coiled in sheets on the bed, unmoving. Gansey blinked down at Henry, still half asleep himself. His perfect hair was perfectly mussed, his white t-shirt clung tight to his chest, and his loose plaid pajama bottoms hung low on his hips.

"Why are you sitting in the closet? Is this a metaphor for something?"

Gansey's joke died quickly on his lips as he noticed Henry's eyes: wide, glassy, unseeing.

Henry's didn't raise his head, but his breath shuddered in and out.

"Henry?" Gansey asked. He knelt down in front of the boy completely curled in on himself. He tentatively placed a hand on Henry's shoulder, bracing himself for Henry to flinch away. Henry didn't flinch. He didn't even feel Gansey's hand. Henry's mind was not in a hotel room with Gansey. Henry's mind was shattering into a dark void where no one would miss him should he never emerge.

"Jesus," sighed Gansey, shaking Henry's shoulder once, twice. No response. "Henry? Tell me what's wrong."

Gansey hadn't needed to ask. He knew immediately what was wrong. It was part of who they were; the deepest, most shameful parts of themselves were already known to one another.

Gansey threw his suitcase aside to make room for himself. He crawled on his knees, his hand sliding up Henry's neck to cup his cheek.

"Talk to me, Henry," he whispered. His voice was edged with concern. Henry could only whimper in response. He was not yet capable of words.

"You're not in the hole," Gansey said, pulling Henry's arms from his knees. Henry's senses were suffused in the gentle scent of mint. "You're with me. And Blue. Come here."

Gansey forced Henry's arms apart and pulled Henry to him. Henry was limp and beyond resisting. He collapsed into Gansey's chest, and Gansey held him firm, wrapping his arms around Henry's shoulders, pressing their cheeks together.

"It's okay. I've got you," Gansey cooed into his ear. Henry felt a tear trickle down the side of his cheek, but he didn't feel sadness. He felt hollow. Gansey kept talking, using his voice to draw Henry back.

"You've saved me so many times," he whispered, his breath prickling Henry's neck. "You saw me breaking and you offered me your hand without judgement." Gansey's grip tightened on Henry's t-shirt, pressing himself possessively to him. "After that, how could you possibly think I'd ever let you suffer alone?"

The words hit Henry harder than anything he had ever experienced, tearing his insides apart. They addressed directly the root of everything. Henry had always suffered alone. Alone in the hole with no one to save him. Alone as a boy, without any friends. Alone at Litchfield, adored but not understood.

_But you aren't alone now._

Because Gansey _understood_ him. Gansey knew fear and anxiety and self-loathing. Richard Campbell Gansey III was everything Henry wanted to be, and he was just as damaged. He had shown that hidden vulnerability to Henry and had agreed to trust him. Then their trust had blossomed into friendship. And then...

_"Will you be ours?"_

His words were _all_ true. And filled with the one thing Henry wanted. The one thing Henry doubted he ever had.

Henry felt his arms reach up and wrap around Gansey, returning the embrace. He couldn't decide if it was a conscious action or once again his body was trying to stabilize him while his emotions were out of control. He held Gansey just as hard as Gansey held him.

"That's right, I'm here," Gansey murmured, nuzzling his face into the crook of Henry's neck. Henry felt Gansey place a soft kiss on his jaw. Then another on his cheek. Then another on his temple. Slowly, Henry was coming back to himself. "I've got you," Gansey said between feather light touches of his lips all over Henry's face. "Remember what you told me?"

Gansey pulled back slightly to look into Henry's eyes. Henry stared into hazel and warmth and kindness and _love_.

"You told me to be afraid and happy."

It was true. Gansey's words were all true.

"So can you do that for me too?" he asked beseechingly. "Please?"

Gansey never demanded things from people, he only would ever ask. How could Henry possibly refuse?

"Happy," Henry echoed, his voice raw.

Happiness was Blue letting him spike her hair for the first time (she had looked very metal). Happiness was the three of them renting bikes and spending a day riding along the waterfront in Devils Fork State Park. Happiness was the first time they had shared a night in bed together, all wrapped in each other's arms, sweaty but sated. These were all the precious memories the darkness stole from him. He realized how badly he never wanted to forget them. He realized how badly he didn't want to be controlled by the darkness ever again.

Henry leaned in and kissed Gansey on the mouth. He felt Gansey smile under his lips, before returning the kiss with tenderness.

When they pulled apart for a breath, Henry still could not speak, but his lips silently mouthed the words, "Thank you," and Gansey nodded his understanding, his hand still clasping the back of Henry's neck.

"Are you two freaks making out in the closet?" came Blue's disbelieving voice from the bedroom. Henry and Gansey's heads swung in sync to look at her. She was sitting up in the bed, staring at them wide eyed and bemused, clutching the sheet to her breasts. Gansey let out a small laugh at her expression. Henry was able to smile and it felt _so so good_.

"Get your asses back into bed," she said. "It is way too early for me to deal with a closet kink."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could write about Henry forever. There is just so much there to address that was breezed over by The Raven King. Gah, such a good character!


End file.
